


Apple Pie

by The_Tevinter_Biscuit



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Baking, Domestic Fluff, Fun, Gardens & Gardening, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 12:18:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12058842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Tevinter_Biscuit/pseuds/The_Tevinter_Biscuit
Summary: Fenris uses the apples from the apple tree he grew himself to bake apple pie for him and Hawke.





	Apple Pie

**Author's Note:**

> this is probably the sweetest, fluffiest thing ive ever written. not even a hint of angst here. just two boys enjoying apple pie.
> 
> enjoy!

“Hawke, look!”

A tall apple tree stood at the back of the garden, many budding apples hung on its long, wiry branches but there one in particular that stood out. A ripe, red apple outshone the rest with its vibrant colours. Fenris stood at the base of the plant, clad in a muddied shirt and shorts with his hands on his hips as the summer heat beat down on him. He marvelled at the singular ripened fruit, pride swelling in his chest. It had taken many years for the tree to grow since he planted it. Over time he had carefully maintained and looked after the plant, occasionally finding himself mindlessly chattering to the tree as he watered the flowers nearby.

From an open window, Hawke could hear Fenris calling his name. He slipped on some shoes to join him in the garden, wondering what he was making all the commotion about. Occasionally he had helped Fenris with his garden but he tried to stay mostly out of the way, it was best to leave it to him instead of being scolded for doing the wrong things. However, it made his own heart flutter to see the twinkle in his eyes whenever he talked about his garden or fussed over what kind of flower he was going to plant next. As he walked out, he saw Fenris at the base of the apple tree – his pride and joy.

“The apples are ripening,” Fenris said simply with a slight smile on his face and Hawke followed his gaze up to the one ripe apple. This meant a lot to him, the culmination of all his hard work. Hawke was sure that looking at the apple didn’t make him feel the same way as it did Fenris, but he was happy for him regardless. He leaned over to press a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Congrats,” he replied, smiling against his cheek.

Over the next week, more and more of the apples ripened enough to be picked. Hawke helped Fenris pick them all, using his height to his advantage. In the end, there were still apples neither of them were able to reach and they ended up bringing out a stool to step up onto. All of the apples were carefully placed in a woven basket and Fenris carried them all into their kitchen.

Fenris’s love for apples was a well-known fact. With the sheer amount of the fruit that had been picked from the tree, Hawke had a good feeling they’d be eating apple-related meals in excess for a while yet. He enjoyed apples but he figured he would leave most of them to Fenris, to someone who would truly appreciate them for their juicy goodness.

When he walked in the kitchen one morning, Fenris was already awake. He had a plain white apron tied around his waist and he was rolling out pastry with a rolling pin. His hair was pushed back with a black hairband, the rest tied back into a messy bun. Fenris had grown his hair out over the years and Hawke adored it. Said hair often shielded his forehead however, so it was nice to see the cute little dots there when he had it pushed back. Flour coated the kitchen surfaces and to one side amongst all the various ingredients scattered around, Hawke noticed a bowl full of finely chopped apples. Fenris didn’t notice him walk in, eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated on properly levelling out the two divided pieces of pastry.

“Not wearing the apron that I got you?” Hawke commented from the doorway, watching him work with amusement and roving his eyes over his form. Fenris looked up from his work and pressed his lips tightly together.

“I would never get anything done if I did. You take the slogan ‘kiss the cook’ much too literally,” Fenris said, rolling his eyes but smirking slightly. He resumed rolling his pastry as Hawke chuckled.

He strode across the kitchen with an air of confidence, finding his way behind Fenris and slipping his arms around his waist before resting his head on his shoulder. His lips quickly found the side of his neck as he mumbled: “Not wearing it isn’t going to stop me.” Fenris laughed as Hawke’s beard tickled his neck, fluttering kisses being left up the side and up to his jaw. He had to push his face away but he was still chuckling.

“Hawke, _please,_ ” he protested. “Later. Let me work.”

Hawke grumbled a little but reluctantly let go of him. He leaned against the wall and continued to watch Fenris as he made his way around the kitchen. His fingers worked so meticulously, like he was born with a talent for baking. He trimmed the edges of the pastry with a knife and covered it with the apples from the bowl. It took Hawke a moment to work out what it was he was making.

“Apple pie?” he asked. Fenris nodded whilst he sprinkled what was probably _too much_ sugar on the top of the apples. He always did have a bit of a sweet tooth. It was a good use of the apples though, both of them could enjoy a hot slice of apple pie. Dab on some whipped cream and it’d be perfect. After all, they had more apples in that basket than they knew what to do with.

Fenris encased the apples with the second piece of pastry he’d rolled out. Hawke watched, mesmerised, as he sealed the edges together and fluted them with his finger and thumb. This was a wasted talent. He should be working in a bakery, spending his life dedicated to the craft he loved so much. But instead he decided to spend his days here, in this small home with him and their dog Biscuit. He had to admit it was peaceful. They simply enjoyed each other’s company, doing chores or engaging his hobbies together in the day and making love in the evening. Hawke couldn’t ask for anything more.

Once everything was ready to go, Fenris placed the pie in the oven. Hawke took the opportunity to scoop his beautiful baker in his arms and kiss him. He could taste apples on his lips and he suspected him of eating some of the fruit intended for the pie. This time, Fenris embraced him and kissed back with a smile on his face.

“If you’re going to be with me in the kitchen, at least help me clean up,” Fenris said once they parted for air. Hawke pretended he hadn’t heard him and leaned in for another kiss but Fenris stopped him, chuckling. He didn’t even sway when he pouted at him. “Come on. You have plenty of time to kiss me later.”

“How cruel. Making me clean,” Hawke replied. Fenris rolled his eyes but smiled still.

After stealing one last quick kiss to the lips, Hawke parted from him and aided in the cleaning process. The two of them wiped clean the surfaces and put away all the excess ingredients that hadn’t been used. Soon enough, the kitchen was spotless. Fenris carefully removed the apron from his waist and stretched, rolling his shoulders once he’d washed his hands and taking one long deep breath.

When 30 minutes had passed, Fenris slipped on some oven mitts (Hawke had picked them, they had little paw prints all over them) and removed the pie from the oven. Hawke hadn’t been hungry before but the smell of the fresh apple pie was enough to alert his senses and make his stomach growl. It should be illegal for something to smell that good. Fenris truly was a connoisseur of baking. He reached out for the pie but Fenris slapped his hand away and wagged his finger at him.

“It’s hot. You’ll burn your mouth out,” he told him and Hawke huffed. He knew he was right but he wanted a slice of that delicious pie _now._

The wait for the pie to cool down would have been dreadful had Fenris not distracted him with kisses. In fact, Hawke had been quite enjoying himself, rubbing his thumbs in circles on Fenris’s waist and peppering kisses on every inch of his face. He tugged his hair free from the bun and removed the hairband so it all fell in front of his face. What had he done to get someone as handsome as Fenris? He pushed a lock of hair behind his ear and smiled fondly at him.

Fenris’s eyes flickered over to the pie. It must be cool enough to eat by now, he thought, and slipped out of Hawke’s hold. He tested the temperature and sure enough, it would be good to eat. Hawke grabbed plates and some whipped cream for himself whilst Fenris grabbed a knife to cut the pie. He split it into even slices and placed two of the slices on the respective plates. The rest could be put away for later. Then he dusted the tops of both slices with sugar. Hawke took the initiative to spray a bunch of whipped cream with his.

“Do you want some too?” he asked Fenris, turning to look at him with the whipped cream can. Fenris hummed, looking down at his slice of pie and mulling it over. Too much would ruin the taste of the pie, but a little couldn’t hurt.

“Just a small amount,” he replied, pointing down at his plate. However, instead of the whipped cream being sprayed on the plate, it struck his face. Fenris yelped as Hawke laughed, shielding his face from the offending spray of whipped cream which was now dripping down his cheek. “ _Hawke!_ ”

Hawke was still laughing. Fenris, once recovered from the initial shock, snorted with laughter as well. He scooped the whipped cream from his cheek and approached Hawke with a burning determination. It wasn’t too hard for him to reach up and smear the whipped cream on his face instead, much to Hawke’s cries of “no, not the beard!” Both of them were still sniggering as Hawke wiped himself clean of whipped cream.

“I’m sorry. Let me get that for you,” he said, putting the whipped cream can down on the counter and taking Fenris’s chin in his hands. Fenris furrowed his eyebrows, wondering what he was going to do. Then Hawke leaned in and broadly licked the excess cream off the side of his face.

“You’re gross!” Fenris exclaimed, pushing his face away and wiping where he’d been licked. It only made Hawke laugh harder. He ignored Hawke’s comment of “you love it” and picked up the whipped cream can to appropriately spray as much as he wanted.

The two of them carried their plates of apple pie to the table so they could sit down and eat, mostly whipped cream free (at least on their faces.) It was Hawke who dug in first. He grabbed his fork and scooped up a big bite of apple pie. Before starting his own, Fenris looked up to judge how it was by Hawke’s expression. He watched in anticipation as Hawke munched on it and raised an eyebrow when he groaned with delight.

“Fenris! It’s _delicious_! You’re practically an expert,” he praised. Fenris smiled bashfully, brushing some of his hair behind his shoulder and took a scoop of pie for his own taste test. They ate in silence, except for the munching of pie and occasional scraping of forks against the plates. Hawke was much more concerned with shovelling as much of this apple pie in his mouth as humanly possible than making conversation. Fenris was happy to let him.

Both of them leaned back in their chairs once they were finished, leaving the forks and crumbs of pie on the plate.

“I take it you’ll want more later then? I used the apples from the tree so I am glad it turned out well,” Fenris commented. Hawke nodded quickly.

“Definitely! That pie was amazing,” he cooed, his mouth watering simply at the thought of eating more of that pie. The fresh apples from the tree definitely helped make it taste better. Plus, it was cheaper to have their own than to have to buy fresh apples themselves every time Fenris wanted to make pie. He turned to Fenris who was sat beside him and took his cheek in his hand so he tilted his face towards him. “Let me pay compliments to the cook.”

Fenris only smiled as Hawke drew him in for a kiss. He would have to bake apple pie more often.


End file.
